


The Final Instar

by ginger_infiltrator



Series: Metamorphose [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Arranged Marriage, Emperor Hux, Kylo Amidala, M/M, Political Marriage, Possessive Behavior, Prince Kylo, monster kylo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-07-18 21:39:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7331545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ginger_infiltrator/pseuds/ginger_infiltrator





	The Final Instar

Emperor Hux entered himself into marriage the same way as he applied himself in battle. Much consideration, meticulous planning, and a slight devious edge of satisfaction. He did always like watching his enemies squirm. 

The choice to have a bridegroom at all was a struggle in and of itself. Yes, he could have ignored his… certain predilections and have chosen a bride, but what was all this power if he could not live his life? No, for the first time, this political alliance would be a large part for his own pleasure. Besides, an heir could easily be produced with a surrogate and the clever slotting together of male DNA. It was not as apparently legitimate as a child organically conceived and borne, but this was the modern age. He could crush all dissenters anyways. 

It did not take Emperor Hux much effort to lure Crown Princess Leia into considering the union. He could sense in her a kindred spirit, hungry for whatever power she could grasp in her own two hands. As a formality, he sent her a missive stating his intentions in plain language. To The Princeling Ben, he sent a courting gift fitting an emperor: a set of golden jewelry, studded with glowing red gemstones and embossed with his crest. There were no mentions of political power or any alliance, simply the gift from the Emperor to his intended. Hux doubted that Ben had much say in the decision anyways. 

The Emperor could not deny his intense satisfaction in commissioning the gift. In its conception, he imagined the buttery gleam of the gold against Ben’s pale and freckled flesh. His crest would press insistently on the inside of the collar right above the sixth vertebrae, gently branding his consort. The thought sent a guilty thrill churning low between his hips. Perhaps it would be a frivolous expenditure of resources had he been propositioning many young men, but his entire focus centered solely on Ben Amidala-Organa. From the moment he saw that lovely creature, head downcast and trailing his mother by a foot at most, Hux knew he wanted no one else on his arm but the beautifully subservient giant of a man.

Since sending the gift, his lustful urges seized upon the image of the jewelry set. In idle moments his subconscious would focus on Ben unwrapping his gift. Would he rightfully impressed? Offended? Would he experimentally close the high latticework of the collar around his long neck and startle at the cold feel of the Emperor’s crest against the nape of his neck? Hux would imagine the way he would keep his new pet. Ben would be naked except for what Hux had given him. His long neck cradled by the high golden collar, cuffs running from his forearms to palm, forcing an elegant extension of his long fingers. The filigree would dig oh so slightly into his consort’s flesh. Hux had Ben’s measurements down to the nanometer, but specifically requested a too-tight circumference from the collar to the cuffs and anklets to the rings. Hux wanted the gentle squeeze to remind Ben of exactly who he belonged to. He stroked himself to completion many times imagining the prince between his thighs, embellished in gold, wet eyes flicking up from the floor to his Emperor’s face as he took him in his mouth. It was a favored fantasy.

The response from Naboo was not as enthusiastic as the Emperor would have liked. Then again, he did not expect a woman as proud as Crown Princess Leia to just leap into his hands. After one standard fortnight he received a short gracious note and a simple inquiry as to how many he had propositioned in addition to Ben Amidala-Organa. He replied that there were no others, and heavily implied that the case was time-sensitive. That garnered him an immediate invitation to the planet and an exclusive audience with the Crown Princess and her son. 

 

….

Kylo watched the emperor’s approach from his balcony. His eminence’s imperial yacht broke through the rosy cloud cover in a burst of gold that reflected the dying sunlight. The skin of his ship shone with the same sweet yellowish tones of the jewelry set that rested in the velvet inlaid case upon Kylo’s dresser. 

The breeze gently floated the silky slip from Kylo’s body and teased the longer curls of hair into his face. Here, in the only private space available to him, he felt his consciousness drifting. Beyond his bedroom door, the handmaidens appointed by his mother sat joined together in sturdy geometric shapes, collectively angling their pitiful psionic abilities in a woven net to entangle him. Some nights he could break free from their pathetic meshed barrier, but on the whole they clung to his very psyche during his wanderings and pulled him back to his physical body. 

This night he floated freely somewhere between his balcony and the web of his handmaiden’s intent. He sampled the gently undulating waves of change that rippled through the atmosphere. Kylo tried as best he could to reach out to the ship, to pinpoint the bright flaring point of the emperor’s mind, only to be tugged back into his designated habitat by the grasping fingers of his overbearing chaperones. 

At that moment, Kylo set his sights upon the emperor. Emperor Hux would be the most expedient route of escape from the planet on which Kylo had been entrapped his entire life. Kylo could feel the universe expanding prematurely before him, the promise of new experiences and powers teasing at his famished mind. The idea of limitless exploration enamored him. The Emperor’s form did not attract or repulse him. Kylo fixated on the freedom the marriage would garner him, if he manipulated his new husband in the expert way he had inadvertently learned from his mother. 

Somewhere, off in the distance, he could pick up the dark buzzing that persisted at the edges of his vision at all times. It spiked and tremored this night. Kylo could only imagine the frenetic energy as encouraging and anticipatory.

This marriage could work to his advantage, after all. 

 

…

The first few days on the planet whirled by Emperor Hux in a colorful torrent. He had seen the sights as a young officer and everything presented came with a twinge of nostalgia. Of course, this tour was less rough than his previous visits. No whorish accolades or long benders. The effort to please him stroked his ego almost as much as it bored him. 

On the third day he was finally granted an audience with the royal family. He entered their salon with confidence, sure that nothing could surprise him. The room was open to an expansive balcony that looked out upon the plush green forests here undeveloped by the royal palace. It was furnished ornately in reds and creams and golds in the usual Nabooian fashion. Emperor Hux took his place on a plush settee across from his only royal company, the Crown Prince Luke. Both their royal guards fanned behind them, tersely at attention. Luke’s seemed, however, more at ease. Perhaps it was the home advantage, the Emperor thought.

The Crown Prince was clothed in his usual manner, largely unadorned except for the shining metal of his synthetic hand. His robes were dark and fairly drab for all the extravagance around him.  
“You will have to excuse my sister,” he said. “She has a habit of running a bit late.”

“She does have a slight flare for the dramatic.”

Luke laughed. “As do all members of our family. You’ll soon learn that, I’m sure.”

“Will I?”

“Young Ben, he… well, he has his moments, like his mother.”

“So his demure airs, they come from his father?” Hux ventured, gleefully irritating what he knew to be a sore point. Ben’s father was not a part of public record. It was rumored that a dirty smuggler had sired him on the princess. Other, louder, more vicious rumors implicated the princess’ own twin brother. On  
Naboo, lineage was established on the mother’s side, so the lack of a legitimate father did not harm Ben’s inheritance in any way, but the same could not be said for the rest of the galaxy. 

The generation previous also had a mysterious origin. Princess Padme had not named her husband, and his identity remained anonymous to this day. Emperor Hux had reasoned that this above the board type of union would appeal to the Amidala-Organa siblings. No more hiding in the dark. No more question of bloodline. He only hoped that they would play along.

“No,” Luke said, gaze drifting off past the Emperor’s padded shoulders. “That was not in his nature. This is… something uniquely Ben, if not somewhat like his grandfather.”

Hux knew when not to push. He and the crown prince sat in companionable silence, casually sampling the meticulously displayed delicacies on the table between them.

Fifteen minutes past the arranged meeting time, the far door burst open in a flurry of rich dresses and sharp musical voices. The princeling’s handmaidens rushed in and spiraled out through the room, tittering quietly. The crown princess appeared in their midst, clothed in an understated Alderaanian royal blue gown. Her son trailed behind, dressed in the intricate finery of his grandmother’s people in red and white. Emperor Hux briefly bemoaned the fact that Ben was not wearing his gifts. Then again, this was a negotiation. 

A small phalanx of royal guards followed, headed by a striking young man whose dark skin shone lustrously against gold-brocaded cream Nabooian suit. The young guard flanked the prince two paces behind, mirrored by another, slightly sallower man. Both wore long, intricate box braids piled high and adorned with shining golden clips that matched the luster of their low-caliber sidearms. 

“Emperor Hux,” Leia said. “I do hope you have found our planet to be like a second home. And I apologize for the slight delay. There were preparations to finalize for the celebration tonight.”

“Celebration?”

Hux rose from his seat and clasped hands amicably with the princess. 

“Yes, in anticipation of the coming union between the Emperor and my son.”

The Emperor allowed himself the briefest of smiles. “Then you agree to my terms?”

“Some of them.” Leia smiled herself. “Others we would see amended.”

“Of course.”

The princeling hung emptily behind his mother. The gauzy crimson veil he wore obscured the finer features of his face. Only his striking nose and dark brows were readily visible to the Emperor. Hux reached out behind the princess, gently taking Ben’s hand in his own to kiss it in a courtly fashion. He thrilled briefly in seeing one of his rings on Ben’s middle finger. So he was wearing part of the gift. The taste of triumph returned. It faded only slightly when he saw the curious downturn of the princeling’s brows. 

Negotiations proceeded amicably. Of course the more contentious articles had been finagled beforehand, through layers of peons and blowhards. To be honest, Emperor Hux had little interest in the proceedings. He used this opportunity of observe the princeling and his family. The crown princess kept her body in front of her son, but never once glanced back at him. The prince, on the other hand, watched his nephew raptly. Luke kept his eyes on Ben when he thought Hux was not looking. When he sensed the Emperor’s gaze they darted skittishly away. 

Emperor Hux had offered wine, and both siblings had said in unison that Ben did not drink. Not that the entire family abstained- just Ben. As the hours dragged on in stilted conversation, Emperor Hux took note of how the lovely princeling wilted under his family’s gaze. 

…

The Prince took the Emperor the botanical gardens on the west side of the compound. Here the humidity clung harder, the heat pressed in more insistently. The gardens were dominated by peach and rose-colored blossoms in intricate arrangements. Somehow the shade had been replicated specimen to specimen so that they all appeared naturally unified, excepting the differences in the elaborate curls of their petals. A yellow-hued animal slithered through the underbrush, sun gleaming off of its scaled hide. 

The Emperor could feel the pollen content in the air like a physical thing, which it was, essentially. The air here was saturated in the gritty motes which grated on his eyes and nasal passages. His own home planet had far too damp an atmosphere to allow the accumulation of plant gametophytes. Here they practically swam in the next vegetal generation. The Emperor tried to ignore the slowly building pressure of mucous in his sinus passages. A sniffle was definitely below the dignity of his station. 

Air plants dangled like ragged curtains just low enough to tickle the apex of their skulls. This place had been clearly calibrated for people of smaller stature. Nabooians ran short. The planet’s fashion had tended towards tall, elaborate headdresses to make up for what height the wearer lacked. The Princeling towered over every Nabooian crowd. He tended to fold in on himself, bowing his head to appear smaller but failing. Here, though, the bend in his neck straightened. Hanging tendrils brushed his hair and he hardly seemed to mind. 

Emperor Hux did not have this little jaunt unsupervised. The Princeling’s guards trailed several paces behind. Further behind them, the royal twins paced and unsuccessfully tried not to appear overbearing. Crown Prince Luke’s efforts were the most appalling. His eyes were practically glued to his nephew. Far too domineering, thought the emperor. And really, what did they expect? What could they do? Did they think the emperor would molest their precious prince in front of them? Besides the lack of decorum that would prevent the emperor from such a thing, what could they even do in retaliation? Silly people, grasping at whatever straws of control they could gather. 

“My grandmother built these gardens for my grandfather. He came from the most barren planet: desert sands like oceans as far as you can see. Dry and mostly lifeless. This way she could show him all the ways life could blossom before him.”

“You… knew your grandfather?”

The veil fluttered as Ben shook his head. “No, but it feels like- it feels like I did. Like I can hear him, sometimes.”

The Emperor decided to leave that little bit of illogic lie. He imagined what a shock it would be, to come face-to-face with all this after a life of deprivation. So much green. 

In the periphery he could make out Crown Prince Luke staring. At this distance he could barely see his eyebrows knit together. Barely. He projected worry. A hard and gleeful part of Hux spurred him to place his hand on the small of Ben’s back and pull him closer. He encountered much more bulk than he had been expecting. The muscles there bunched in solid configurations of near-perfect anatomical form. The Emperor left his hand where it was.

“So, this is your favorite place.”

“Yes, by far,” the prince said, quickly glancing down and back up at the arm around him. “This is the only place I can really think.”

“Do they often follow you here?”

The Emperor could make out the dark gaze leveled at him through the veil.

“Not usually. They’re always listening, you know.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“They can’t, here.”

“Can’t they?” The Emperor paused, glancing back at the twins for a moment. “It must be horrid, having no privacy to yourself. They act like they own you.”

“And you act as if you’re buying me.”

The Emperor chuckled lightly, trying to hide an edge of lust that spiked in the prince’s deduction. “Somewhat. But I can get you out off of Naboo, away from your family. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

The princeling lifted his veil and carefully tucked its edges into the clasps of his headdress. Hux had readied himself, saturated with whatever holo images he could find of Prince Ben’s face. He recognized the regal jut of Ben’s overlarge nose, whose shadow brushed gently at the lush swelling of his lips. Dark marks freckled his milky, luminescent skin. Above it all, he prince’s eyes gazed intently under thick dark lashes, slightly softened by some teary wetness. 

“I would, if you would prove a more carful master.”

“And I could be, if you told me what you want,” The Emperor said, reaching out to brush his hand against the bottom curve of Ben’s jaw. “Tell me, what is it you want?”

The prince looked away briefly, before aiming a burning gaze at the Emperor. 

“I want freedom. I want to be me.”

“Aren’t you?” Hux pressed at the dimpled space under the plush swell of the Prince’s bottom lip and dragged his thumb across. In the periphery, he could see The Crown Prince clench his fingers in a fist. His aggressive reaction exhilarated Hux more than the slight shake of Prince Ben’s lip.

“Not completely.”

“Well, I assure you, you can be exactly what you want.” Ben looked away and smirked. “Anything. I mean it. Come with me. What is it about the treaty you don’t like?”

Ben hesitated, arrowing a short gaze at his uncle and mother.

“The visits.”

“What about them?”

“Those two want them every four weeks. I don’t want that.”

“What do you want?”

“None. But that’s not entirely possible, is it?” 

“No, they would prefer to keep their visitation rights. It’s a point of contention. You would have none at all?”

“None.”

“Well, that’s not possible. Every eight standard weeks?”

“Ten.” 

“If I asked for ten they would demand two.” The Emperor hazarded a small glance back at the crown prince. “I figure the royal twins would settle for no less than eight. They seem obsessed with your well-being.”

“Eight then. Twice as long between visits than what they proposed.”

“This can be negotiated. Other requests?”

The prince paused, looking into the middle distance and biting his lip. His eyes darted for a moment behind him, as if he could see his chaperones.

“I understand that a small retainer of household servants will accompany me to your estate.”

“Yes. Would you like more?”

“Less, actually.” The princeling gestured vaguely over his shoulder with a wiggle of his fingers. “Those two over there- my guards- I would keep them. But not the handmaids.”

“I assure you that you will be perfectly safe as long as you are-“

“No, it’s not about safety!” For a moment, the prince’s eyes flared. He settled back immediately, tensed muscles in his shoulders and neck relaxing. “I want those two. They have been with me for a long time. Finn and Zephyr. I will have no one else but them.”

“But the handmaidens-“

“Those are entirely my mother’s doing. I am tired of them.”

“Well, I am pleased that you won’t be accompanied by such tempting young women.”

“They’re not all- here on Naboo we use the term ‘handmaiden’ more loosely.”

The Emperor thought back on the gaggle of twittering handmaidens in the salon. They had all appeared similar, in the same blandly beautiful way that all women looked to him. Perhaps one or two had seemed more… attractive in an androgenic sense. Thicker eyebrows, stronger jaws. The group was cohesive in the same youthful sense. Softer and more feminine the fewer years they had enjoyed. Both beautiful, those boys and girls in rich fabrics 

“I don’t know if that makes the situation better or worse.” Hux said.

“I expected you’d be a jealous man.”

“Is that what you found?”

Ben paused. “Yes and no. I anticipated a clause in the treaty requiring a chastity belt.”

“Dirty and uncomfortable things.” Said the emperor, slightly grinning. The thought had crossed his mind in the past. “But what is chastity without temptation? I would have you choose me above all others, willingly.” 

“I have chosen you.” 

Hux sneered instinctively, barely reigning back the urge to possessively bite and tear. 

“In time you will have the opportunity to prove that to me,” Emperor Hux said, lightly threading his gloved fingers through the wispy hair at Ben’s nape. “But for now, your people expect some sense of decorum. Wait until our wedding night, will you?”

Emperor Hux gleefully snorted at the immediate downturn of Ben’s lips and the bright blush that leapt from his cheeks to his temples. He trailed his hand from the prince’s neck down to his shoulder, and further down his muscled arm to grasp at his palm, lightly batting his fingertips at the solid tensing flesh he found. 

“Show me the rest of your gardens, my prince. We’ll talk of our union later.”


End file.
